The Marie Ansile Affair
by meowma1
Summary: Napoleon Solo is heading to Paris to assist an old friend with a discovery made in the Catacombs. Little does he know that an old enemy is waiting for him to get revenge for something Napoleon did many years ago. When he realizes what's going on, the other U.N.C.L.E. agents get involved to bring down a notorious criminal from WWII.
1. Foreword

FOREWORD

"Absolutely hated working with you, Peril."

\- Napoleon Solo

"You're a terrible spy, Cowboy."

-Illya Kuryakin


	2. Prologue

PROLOGUE

May, 1963

Catacombs, Paris France

The floating debris was starting to clear from the explosion. Illya Kuryakin shook his head, moaned, and proceeded to get up, brushing stones and sand from himself. His ears were still ringing. He felt around for something to lean against as he reached for the matches he had in his pocket. Lighting one, he held the flame before him, and looked around...there! He found what he was searching for. The flame went out as he dropped to his knees and put his hand behind Napoleon Solo's head.

"You okay, Cowboy?"

Napoleon coughed a few times and groaned, "Yes, I think so...my ears are still ringing."

"Mine, too. It will stop soon."

Illya lit another match. As Napoleon struggled to get up, Illya found the lantern still intact, lit it and soon they were able to see their surroundings. They stood amidst nothing but rocks and sand. The exit was blocked.

"You're bleeding, Peril..." Napoleon pointed to Illya's temple.

"That's the least of our problems...I don't know how we're going to get out of here..."

Napoleon started to dust himself off as he walked slowly over the stones and cement looking intense. He turned to Illya.

"We got ourselves in a world of shit this time, Peril..."

"Tell me something I don't already know, Cowboy."


	3. Chapter 1

1 week earlier...

CHAPTER 1

U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters, New York City

Alexander Waverly's Office

Napoleon Solo sat across from Alexander Waverly took a deep breath and began.

"I appreciate your meeting with me privately, sir."

"I was intrigued when I got your call...so what's this all about...nothing illegal I" hope?" Waverly chuckled.

"No, absolutely not. I received a call from an old friend a few days ago. I promised not to share this with anyone, but I don't think that I can help her without the organizations assistance. She is an archeologist currently working for the Louvre Museum. She said one day last week while working in the catacombs she came across what appeared to be a secret room. She chiseled through a minute portion of the wall and believes she saw endless rows of gold bullion. She covered up her tracks and called me."

"First of all, what is her name?"

Napoleon hesitated.

"Solo, if I am going to trust _you_ then you have to trust _me_."

"Of course...her name is Marie Ansile."

"And why is Miss Ansile hesitant to tell her story to the authorities?"

"Remember the secret cache of gold bullion found in Sweden?" Napoleon asked. Waverly thought for a second, nodded, and said,

"Yes...it never found its way to the countries in Europe in accordance with the mandate set forth by the allies that Germany pay reparations...Hmmmm...So Miss Ansile fears this cache might wind up the same...?"

Napoleon nodded and commented,

"Rumor has it the Sweden cache of gold was absconded by Nazis..."

"Hate those Nazis..." Waverly stated. "So, tell me, how well do you know Miss Ansile?"

"I trust her 100%."

"That's not what I asked..."

"I met her when I was in the army and was stationed in Paris after the liberation."

Waverly sat back in his chair.

"There's a story here...am I right?"

Napoleon grinned and nodded, then got comfortable himself.

 _"_ Yes...there's a story...it began in 1947..." Napoleon was still smiling as his mind's eye went back to a sunny spring morning in Paris...


	4. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

April, 1947

Paris, France

"Sergeant Solo? Sir?"

Napoleon turned to face a saluting private and saluted back.

"Yes, Private Kullen?" He scanned the noisy street behind Kullen, hoping to find a lot of captured street kids, per his recent order.

"Sir... I know you ordered us to round up the local street youths for questioning...but, sir...we just can't get them! They're scattered all around the neighborhood...and when we get some, others show up throwing rocks and bricks! Private Allen is in sickbay getting stitches in his head...sir."

Napoleon almost laughed. He knew how wily these kids were; but the armies supply room was robbed again and Napoleon was determined to make an example of _someone...anyone_...to end the theft.

"All right, Private...call the rest back." He saluted and dismissed Kullen.

As he walked back to the building the army was using as their headquarters, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the absurdity of his position. The war was over. His regiment was ready to head back home. The only thing keeping them busy was interviewing suspected Nazi collaborators, helping the locals rebuild their city, and keeping crime to a minimum.

On his way to his office, he stopped at the local police station. It was housing a recently convicted Nazi collaborator named Henri Pinet that Napoleon had arrested. His crimes were despicable to say the least. Not only did he turn in Jews from his neighborhood in exchange for gold, he began to bring bogus charges against non-Jews. This resulted in making orphans of the many hundreds of children, and what began the youthful resistance. He was waiting transfer to another prison to serve a 20 year sentence. When Napoleon opened the door, he saw Henri Pinet sitting in a cell on his bunk. The man looked up and scowled when he saw the man responsible for his being behind bars. Napoleon nodded to the officer at the desk, and approached the cell. Henri Pinet stood up. He was a small Frenchman, with dark hair and mustache. He wore plain grey pants and matching shirt. A lot different than he was used to dressing, Napoleon thought.

"Well, Messieur Pinet...you should be on your way soon. I would wish you good luck, but considering what you're charged with..." he whispered, "I hope you get your ass kicked every day." He turned to leave when, in French, Pinet said,

"One day I will be free and will pay you a visit, Sergeant Solo... I promise you this..."

Napoleon just kept walking and left. Just a few steps away and he was at his headquarters. As he opened the door to the building, he backed away as another private was dragging in a young man by the back of his ragged shirt. He was flailing, cursing in French, kicking and spitting. The private pushed him onto a chair. He noticed Sergeant Solo, and snapped to a crisp salute. Napoleon responded.

"What's this all about?" he nodded to the boy, who scowled and said,

"Va au diable!" (Go to hell) The boy pulled his cap tighter onto his head.

"I found out this is the leader of the group that's been stealing" from our mess tent!"

Napoleon stood before the boy. The private stood back.

"Leader, huh?" Napoleon chuckled and to the boy he said, "Tu parles anglais?" The boy looked up, crossed his arms, and grinned.

"Non...tu parles francais?"

"Oui..." Napoleon dragged a chair over and sat in front of him. They spoke in French:

"What's your name?" Napoleon asked.

"General Eisenhower" The boy answered smirking. Napoleon raised his brows, and took a deep breath.

"Son..." He began, trying to remain patient.

"We can do this easy, or hard. One way or another you're going to cooperate. I'm tired, and a little snip like you will not win this battle. Now, our military has given this city more than enough supplies that you don't have to steal from us. We're here to help. Why are you making this so difficult? We are not the enemy."

The boy looked over Napoleon's shoulder as the door opened. Napoleon turned. The boy jumped up. Napoleon quickly grabbed his arm. The boy kicked his shin, punched his stomach, spat at him, and pulled away heading for the opened door. Before he reached it, Napoleon got an arm around his waist.

"Guess it's going to be the hard way!"

He sat down, pulling the struggling boy over his lap. After a few swats and much cursing, Napoleon stood him up. That's when the cap flew off, revealing long brown hair.

'He' was a 'she'.

The Private witnessing everything gasped.

Napoleon moaned, "Oh crap"

...and the young lady, in perfect English and a sarcastic attitude announced, "You hit like a girl."


	5. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Present

"That was the first time I met Marie. She was 12, I was 18. The war left her orphaned. Her mother was English, her father French. She gathered the other lost kids together for survival." He chuckled.

"After awhile of being antagonistic, she realized it was getting her nowhere. We slowly became friends and spent a lot of time together; that's when she realized that the lives her group had was never going to bring any of them happiness. She allowed me to get them into the local shelter being run by surviving teachers, doctors, and volunteers. When my unit was finally going home, I made Marie promise to keep in touch. Periodically I would send her money, and she blossomed from that hoodlum into a very bright and ambitious young lady. The last I heard from her she was leaving the shelter to pursue her academics further. About that time was when I was arrested. She couldn't find me, and we lost touch. Until now. "

Alexander Waverly sat up straight and folded his hands on his desk. He thought for a moment.

"Why you?"

"Trust. Marie said she kept up with me by reading the news. When this came about, she made some calls and found me. Said she needed my help; she trusts me and was sure I would know if the gold is real and from the war. Asked me to come to Paris and check it out."

"First off, if you do go to Paris...Kuryakin goes with you."

With a sigh, Napoleon stood to leave, but Waverly's next words stopped him.

"I guarantee if the gold is genuine, U.N.C.L.E. will assist you in any way possible. But you're not going alone. It's Kuryakin or nothing, Napoleon. That's the deal. Nobody will be the wiser he's with you."

Napoleon took a deep breath, and with hands in his pants pocket, paced the small office. Finally, he stopped and facing Waverly, nodded his head.

"Good. I'll make sure Kuryakin contacts you. When you're ready, I'll have airline tickets waiting. I'm taking a chance on you. I won't alert headquarters until you tell me there's no question the gold is genuine. Then we'll be sure it's returned to the rightful owners."

"Thank you." Napoleon held out his hand and Waverly shook it.

"Good Luck, Solo."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Napoleon sat on the balcony of his upper west side New York apartment drinking scotch and wondering what this trip would turn up. There was a knock on the door. He knew it had to be Illya. He yelled

"Come in" and waited until Illya joined him on the balcony.

"Good evening, Peril..." He said, looking up at the tall Russian.

"Cowboy..."

"Drink?"

"No drink, thank you...just information..."

"Want me to start from the beginning?" Napoleon finished his drink, and poured another.

"You tell me what you think I need to know to keep you safe."

Without looking at him, Napoleon just knew he was smirking.

"Waverly tell you anything?" He took a sip of his drink.

"No."

"Well then...Back just when the war was winding down, my unit was deployed..."

As he told his story, Illya occasionally nodded, frowned, and smiled at certain parts. But mostly he just listened.

"Are you in love with this woman?" Illya asked when Napoleon finished.

"I love her like a sister."

Illya nodded.

"Why do you think, after you check out this story, it is so important for her to do the 'right thing'?"

"Well, I assume because she's grown to be a responsible human being, and seeing firsthand how her country suffered during the occupation, maybe she just needs a little justice."

Illya stood and poured a small glass of whiskey, drank it, and sat again.

"I'm not buying it, Cowboy. Something does not calculate. But we won't know until we go."

Napoleon took a deep breath. Looking Illya straight in the eyes he said,

"We usually don't see things the same way Peril, but this time I must confess, I agree. Something does not calculate."

They both stood, and Napoleon escorted Illya to the door.

"From here on until we get to our hotel in Paris, we are strangers. I will make contact with you. Try to stay out of trouble until then, Cowboy." Illya said, and then shut the door behind him.

On the flight, Illya read the file given to him by Waverly. It was mostly about Napoleons military stay in Paris; most of which Illya all ready knew. Little information was given about Marie Ansile, except in a report filed by Solo detailing his intent to get the orphans in Paris into a safe haven. Maybe she was just reaching out to a friend for help. Illya put the file away and tried to get some sleep. Napoleon (sitting a few rows back) thoughtfully stared out the window. He wondered what Marie would look like all grown up. He smiled remembering the defiant, stubborn adolescent compared to the voice of a woman over the phone. He closed his eyes and tried to put his thoughts away and get some sleep.


	6. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Plaza Hotel

After checking into his room, Napoleon called Marie. After 2 rings, she answered.

"Bonjour."

"Bonjour, mon ami..."

"Napoleon! Si bon d'entendre ta voix!" (So good to hear your voice again!)"

"And it's good to hear yours, also." He switched to English.

"Are you here?"

"Yes."

"Oh I am so happy! I cannot wait to see you...are you close enough to meet me at the outside café by the Eiffel Tower?"

"When?" He checked his watch. Almost lunchtime.

"Give me an hour?"

"See you in an hour..."

He hung up, and then stood by the window which faced the tower. There was a knock at the door. Had to be Illya.

"Come in..."

"Cowboy...you make contact?"

"Peril... I know we have to be on our toes, but let's not forget that this is a very good friend. I'm here to see what kind of help she needs... I am a bit uncomfortable treating her like an enemy."

"That is why I am here. She is not an enemy until I say she is. "

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Napoleon sat at a table at an outdoor café with a cup of coffee watching people going by. He checked his watch and when he looked up, he saw Marie walking towards him. He hadn't seen her in 15 years, but there was no doubt. She was taller, still thin, with her long brown hair free and blowing in the breeze. She was wearing slacks and shirt, flat shoes, and had a huge purse over her shoulder. As she got closer, she slowed her walk and removed her sunglasses. He stood, smiling. That face never changed, he thought. Suddenly, she began to run towards him and threw herself into his arms. They stayed like this for a few moments.

Illya was at a table within sight of them. He pretended to be reading a paper, but was actually keeping close watch. He had asked Napoleon to wear a device so Illya could listen, but he refused.

After breaking away, Napoleon and Marie sat across from each other. The waitress came by.

"Menu?"

"Non, juste un café, s'il vous plaît."

"You look fabulous, Marie. I'm glad things are going well." They held hands across the table.

"Oh, Napoleon... I am thrilled and apprehensive both at the same time. When I found that secret room, all I thought of was returning something to the poor people who suffered during the war."

The waitress brought her coffee. Napoleon watched as Marie stirred in milk and sugar, and then took a sip. He noticed her hands shake ever so slightly.

"When are you going to show me?"

"Tomorrow? I would like us to have dinner tonight together and catch up. This afternoon I have a group of school children coming to the catacombs. Is that all right with you?"

Just then Illya showed up at their table. He was holding a tour guide, and had a camera hanging from his neck. Typical tourist. He smiled widely (which disturbed Napoleon) and spoke in French.

"Pardon me for the interruption, but I am looking for this Musee Quai Branley anthropological museum?"

He put the tour guide in front of Marie and leaned over her as she spoke. Napoleon couldn't see what his left arm was doing behind her.

"But of course..." Marie began to point and gives Illya directions. He thanked her, nodded to Napoleon, and then walked away. Napoleon tried not to appear irritated, but he just knew Peril planted something on Marie.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, at a nearby phone booth, a man dialed and waited.

"Yes?" The man who answered spoke in German, as did the caller.

"I have them in sight. They are conversing. A tourist spoke with them..."

"I do not need all that information idiot! Just call when she gives you the signal that she followed our orders!"

"Yes, sir." The man hung up, frustrated at having been spoken to so rudely. He lit a cigarette, and took a seat on a nearby park bench and waited.

They spent an hour reminiscing, laughing, and taking a walk around the park. If Napoleon noticed anything odd, it was that Marie seemed nervous; she kept looking around, her dark brown eyes quickly scanning her surroundings; she fidgeted with her hair, and she kept clasping and unclasping her hands. Definitely signs of someone under stress, he thought. Finally they said their goodbyes, kissing and hugging. Napoleon offered to pick her up for dinner, but she quickly said she would meet him at the Louvre at 8:00.

He watched as she walked away, and he could have sworn he saw her nod to a gentleman sitting on a bench.

'Hmmmm,' he thought, 'perhaps she knows him.' Before Napoleon turned to walk, he noticed the man go into the phone booth.


	7. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Napoleon and Illya were close to throwing punches. What else is new?

"Why did you plant that transmitter?" Napoleon slammed a fist on the table.

"Because if we are going to find out exactly what is going on, I need to know things!"

"And what things have you discovered?"

They sat at the table in Napoleon's room. Illya leaned back in his chair, indicating no punches were going to be thrown.

"Did you see man in phone booth? He was watching her. And when she left, she made a nod to him."

"Yes, I noticed that, too..." Napoleon raised a brow.

"When you are at dinner, I will go to her apartment. Check things there. That location is one of the things I found using the transmitter. You keep an eye for any other interesting characters. After, we can see if it even safe for you to go to catacombs tomorrow."

"My mother didn't protect me like this..." he chuckled. "It's unnerving and, frankly, a pain in the ass."

"Pain or no, it is my job for now." He checked his watch. "Almost time for you to go... Come to my room when you are done."

As Illya got up to leave, Napoleon snapped him a salute.

"Yes sir!"

"Not funny, Cowboy. Not funny at all." He growled and left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Illya sat across the street from Marie's apartment in his rental car and waited. When she finally came out, he waited until she turned the corner before he got out, crossed the street, and entered the building. He scanned the names on the buzzers and frowned. There were only 6 apartments and none were Marie Ansile's. There was a Marie Favre, apartment 2B. Could it be? Was she married? Illya quickly jimmied opened the front door, took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, found 2B and quietly jimmied that opened. He stepped inside and listened. Nothing. He slowly walked around. He saw some photos in frames on a table. One was of Marie in a wedding dress next to her husband, obviously. Both smiling. Another was worn and yellowed, of a smiling couple with a little girl between them. Her with her parents? The third left Illya stunned. It was of a small boy, perhaps 5 years old sitting on Marie's lap, both laughing.

Marie stopped walking when she felt a chill and realized she'd forgotten a sweater. She still had time before she had to meet Napoleon, so she turned back around and quickly headed home.

Illya didn't have to see anything else. He was certain Marie was hiding something other than being married and having a son. That was something a friend did not hide. But why? He was still staring at the pictures when he heard the key in the door. He hid behind the door, and when Marie walked in, he grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth.

"I am not here to hurt you...do not scream. I am a friend of Cowboy...Napoleon Solo. My name is Illya Kuryakin."

While he spoke, she was struggling to get free. But at hearing him say Napoleon's name, she stopped. He let her go. She turned to face him and frowned.

"You?! You were at the cafe!" She backed away. "What are you doing here? How do you know Napoleon? Why did you act like a tourist?"

"I am here to protect Napoleon." Illya found it strange not to call him Cowboy.

"From what?

"You tell me..." He went and got the pictures.

"Who is this?" He asked handing her the one of her wedding. Marie began to tremble. She looked up at Illya, a single tear streaming down her face.

"My husband, Tristan. He died in a car crash two years ago."

"And these?"

"My parents. Killed in the war. That..." She took the picture of her and the little boy and held it against her heart. "This is my son, Justin. He just turned 5."

"Where is he?"

Suddenly Marie could take no more. One last look into Illya's eyes, and her knees buckled and she fell into a dead faint.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Someone was wiping her face with a cool cloth, repeating her name as she slowly opened her eyes. It was Napoleon. She was lying on the couch and he sat next to her. Illya was gone.

"Napoleon? What are you doing here? You mustn't be here!" She sat up.

"Shhh...It's all right. Peril came to get me and we snuck back in. Nobody saw us."

"Who is Peril?"

"Illya...it's his, a, code name..."

"I don't understand..."

"Neither do I...so how about you tell me what is going on. The truth. All of it. We can't help if you're not honest."

She couldn't help but grin.

"Now you sound like Sergeant Solo...and you're right. I cannot handle this alone. One thing I know, Napoleon, is you will always protect me..."

Illya suddenly appeared from the kitchen area. Both of them raised their brows at the same time.

"What? I came down from roof, in through fire escape in kitchen." He put out his hand to shake with Marie and said,

"We have not been properly introduced... Illya Kuryakin...and I am also here for your protection."

"Everything quiet out there?" Napoleon asked.

"So far. Nobody followed. I gave a good chase through park."

"A car chase, Peril?"

"Do not question my methods, Cowboy."

"Cowboy?" Marie asked with a smirk. Napoleon sighed.

"My code name. Now, will you _please_ tell us what is going on?"

Marie took a deep breath, and said her story started about a week ago. It was a normal weekday; she kissed her son Justin good-bye and handed him over to her nanny, Denise. Denise would then walk him to his kindergarten class, pick him up in the afternoon, and stay with him at the apartment until Marie returned home. It's a routine they've done for months; and one that was being watched for the past few days, unbeknownst to Marie.

She took her usual route to the Louvre, a casual walk through the park. When she exited the park to cross the street, a black car blocked her way. The back door was opened and an arm grabbed her arm, pulled her in, and they drove. Marie, stunned, tried opening the door.

"It's locked from up front, Miss Ansile...relax and I will explain everything..." The man next to her had a bandana covering his face and a black coat and fedora. He spoke in French, so she did the same.

"What do you want?"

"I need you to contact a friend of yours... I need him in Paris as soon as possible."

"What friend? Who are you?"

That's when the man pulled off the bandana and removed his hat. Marie looked at him for a moment before she remembered the face.

"Messieur Pinet!? What are you doing? I thought you were in prison!"

Henri Pinet smiled. To Marie it looked sadistic; almost mad.

"I was released a short time ago; but that is neither here nor there...now listen carefully. I am not going to repeat this. I know you had an ongoing friendship with Sergeant Solo..."

Marie tried to interrupt, wanting to tell Pinet she lost touch with Napoleon.

"Shhh...Do not interrupt...now, I _know_ you lost touch. I know he was in prison, and then he disappeared. But _I_ did not lose touch. He is with some government organization-newly formed, quite off the radar...but, I digress. This is what you are going to do."

He reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a paper.

"This is his number. You are to contact him and tell him you _think_ you found a large cache of gold bullion in the catacombs. You trust only him to verify it is gold and that it is gold hidden by the Nazis. He must come to Paris now. When he gets here, and you get him into the catacombs the morning after he arrives..." He opened the paper. It was a crude map of a certain section of the catacombs.

"You take him here..." he pointed to a section Marie was familiar with. It was accessible by a manhole on a small side street outside the Eiffel Tower Park.

"You lead him in, and leave. I will do the rest."

"What are you planning, Messieur Pinet?"

"Why, I am planning to kill him."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Napoleon started pacing, thinking. Illya sat next to Marie and took her shaking hand in his. She smiled at his kindness through tear-filled eyes.

"Napoleon...he then told me he had Denise and Justin. He said he would release them once he was finished with you. He said they were safe, well cared for. But if I don't do as he says, he would kill them both and drop their bodies on my doorstep. He said..." Marie let her tears flow unchecked.

"He said Justin cries for me..."

"Cowboy, nobody knows who I am. What if Marie gets me to the place and I wait?"

Napoleon stopped his pacing, sitting across from Marie.

"Why that particular place? Does it have any significance?"

"Yes. I asked Pinet...he laughed at me and said how stupid I was to be down in those catacombs and never finding the real cache. He said once you are dead, he is going to remove the share of gold the Nazis promised him for collaborating with them during the occupation."

"So he must have help..." Napoleon said. "The guy in the phone booth?"

Marie nodded. "His name is Hans Schmit. He will help Pinet in any way he can to see that his superiors get their gold, minus Pinets share."

"He told you all of this?" Illya asked. Marie nodded.

"He was quite gleeful. Almost mad how he spoke of his revenge...He blames Napoleon for his imprisonment, his loss of his family and friends...how he suffered degradation in the prison..."

The three were quiet, each with their own thoughts. Marie spoke softly.

"I don't think I can ever forgive myself for doing this to you, Napoleon...but my son..." She cried openly.

"My child was in danger..."

Napoleon pulled Marie into his arms, holding her as she cried.

"It's all right, Marie. Peril and I will figure something out."

He let her go, and turned to Illya. "Stay with her, okay? I'm going back to the hotel."

Illya chose not to question his reason.

"Go the way I did, Cowboy. She will be safe with me."

"Never doubted that, Peril..." He started for the kitchen, then turned and said, "Thanks."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Herr Pinet, Solo is still in the apartment. Do you want me to keep watch?" Hans Schmit was in the corner

phone booth.

"No. I see no reason. She will escort Solo to the site tomorrow like she was told. Once she leaves, you pick her up and take her to her son and sitter. Kill all three."

"...and after that?"

"Meet me at the site where the trucks are parked for loading the gold. I have men waiting. I will take my share. My job is done; the rest is up to you to get the trucks to Germany."

"I will be waiting tomorrow, Herr Pinet."


	8. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Marie was making coffee, and Illya was scanning the small street map enclosed in the tour guide he had.

He carefully circled the area that Marie was to take Napoleon. When she came into the living room with two steaming cups, Illya asked her,

"Show me where I can enter catacombs and be able to wait for Cowboy. When Pinet comes in, I can surprise him."

Marie showed Illya an entryway.

"Enter here, go to the first right turn, then left. There is a wall, and to the right will be the area I am to tell Napoleon is the gold behind a partially excavated wall."

Illya nodded. Her phone rang. It was Napoleon.

"I will be back to your house in the morning."

"All right. Thank you, Napoleon. No, I'm fine. You? Good...Yes, he's still here..." She handed the phone to Illya. He listened for a moment.

"Yes I will." Was all he said, and then hung up.

"I am staying here tonight...You can get some rest..."

Marie smiled, and then sat on her couch.

"I don't think I can sleep..."

"Just relax. I am going to check outside..."

Illya was gone no more than 15 minutes, and when he returned, Marie had fallen asleep. He took the comforter from behind the couch, and gently covered her; then he sat on the chair, shut the light, and waited for morning.

Back at his hotel room, Napoleon was preparing his weapons. He had a small gun strapped to his ankle, and a larger one in a holster attached to his belt in the back.

During the night, Marie heard Illya talking quietly on the phone. She was too groggy to understand what he said, and quickly fell back asleep. When she woke up, it was daylight. Looking around, she thought she was alone; then she heard the water in the kitchen. She got up and found Napoleon had made a fresh pot of coffee. He smiled widely.

"Bonjour!"

"Bonjour to you, too...why so cheerful?"

He handed her a cup. She took a sip and sighed.

"Marie, I know you will be very angry with me when I tell you this...drink..." He pushed the cup to her lips, she drank.

"What is it?" She sputtered when he forced her to take another sip. Suddenly she realized that last mouthful tasted bitter. She stared into his eyes.

"What did you give me? What is going on?" She felt a little lightheaded.

"I put some sleeping powder in the coffee."

" _WHAT?!_ Whatever for? I need to take you to th..." She slurred. He had to talk quick.

"I cannot let you lead me to whatever lies ahead. I don't want you to blame yourself for whatever happens..."

"No...No...Napoleon, my son! Denise...what will happen to them?" She cried, tried to get up, but couldn't.

"Listen to me. Do you trust me?"

She reverted back to her native French...

"Mais bien sûr. Je vous ai toujours fait confiance." (But of course, I always trusted you)

"Then trust me now. Your son and Denise will be safe. You will be safe...Marie? Do you understand?"

She nodded. He picked her up and took her to her bedroom, laying her on the bed. She whispered seductively

"Soyez sûr Mon amour. Vous étiez toujours Mon premier amour." (Be safe my love. You were always my first love). He smiled, and then brushed her hair from her face as she fell asleep. He kissed her forehead, then left the apartment and headed for the catacombs.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hans Schmit sitting in his car watching the apartment building suddenly frowned when he saw Napoleon leaving alone. Where was the woman?! He waited a few minutes, then quickly left the car and ran to the corner phone booth. He quickly put in the coins and waited for the dial tone. Just as he began to dial, a large hand pushed down the receiver. Hans Schmit turned to see a very tall, scowling individual.

"What do you think you are doing? Wait your turn!" He scolded. Illya did not move his hand. Instead, he took the back of Schmits coat, pulled him out of the booth and pushed him against it. Schmit had to look up to see the man's face.

"You are Hans Schmit, no?"

"Who are _you?!_ You want money? I have no money!"

"Give me your wallet..."

Schmit nervously complied.

"You do not move. You move, I will kill you."

"Kill me? I do not have that much money for you to kill me!" He was sweating profusely.

"I do not want your money, just your address..."

Hans Schmit frowned, not understanding, but he stood very still as Illya pulled out his driver's license.

He then whistled to a police officer standing at the corner.

"Oui? ce qui semble être le problème?" (Yes? What seems to be the problem?)

"This man is holding a small boy and his nanny at this address." He handed the officer the license. "He is a known kidnapper and murderer."

"This man is mad!" Schmit spat.

Illya took out his identification showing he was KGB. The officer nodded, then grabbed Schmit by his arm, and whistled for another police officer who was in a police car.

"No! You are mistaken!"

The officer shook him and threw him in the back seat. As he got into the passenger side, he said to the other officer in French,

"We must get to this address immediately. A child and woman are being held against their will by this pig...call for backup."

As the siren was turned on, Illya grinned and gave Schmit a wave goodbye. When the police car was out of sight, Illya headed for the street where he would enter the catacombs.


	9. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Napoleon got to the site where the manhole was. The street was empty. It was curious how all the entrances to this archeological wonder were either through manholes or sewer grates. A few entrances were created for tourists; but most of those catacomb tours did not delve deep into their depths. Napoleon took a deep breath and put his fingers into the manhole cover and heaved it up and slid it away. Staring down, he saw a ladder. When he was a few feet in, he pulled the cover back on, then turned on his flashlight. Climbing down he could hear the traffic above, but the deeper he got, the less noise. Finally reaching the bottom, there were no doorways, just walls. He could only follow their route.

Illya found his way via Marie's direction. When he reached the location where (most likely) Napoleon would show up, he shut his flashlight and fit himself in the shadows. Now he had to wait and listen in the dark.

The temperature was getting warm and damp. Napoleon wanted to remove his jacket, but it concealed his weapon. Finally, up ahead, he saw a flicker of light. As he got closer, he saw to his right was a doorway. When he turned into it, he saw Henri Pinet waiting, with a pistol aimed at him. He had no flashlight, but a lantern near his feet.

"Ahhh, finally, Sergeant Solo...you have not changed a bit!"

"Can't say the same about you, Messieur Pinet."

"Yes, prison takes its toll on a man. I thank you for that."

"It's awfully stuffy in here, Pinet...let's get to why I'm really here..."

"You are here to die, Sergeant Solo."

"I'm not a sergeant any more, Pinet; and I don't intend on dying in this hell hole..."

Pinet smirked, taking a step closer to Napoleon.

"Non? Enlighten me...what will prevent me from killing you?"

"Me." Illya said as he stepped out of the shadows and held a knife to Pinets throat.

"Drop the gun." He ordered Pinet.

"Firing a pistol in these catacombs would bring down a lot of rocks and cement...killing us all...and I do not intend to let that happen."

Pinet dropped the gun, but before Illya or Napoleon could move, the barrel of a gun swung out behind Illya and hit him on the side of the head, knocking him out. Pinet retrieved his gun. The other man came into the light. He spoke to Pinet in German.

"Should I tie them up?"

"Yes. Hurry...Sergeant Solo is right, it is quite stuffy in here."

The man took rope from his pocket and tied Napoleon's hands behind him. He never felt his weapon. Then he tied his feet. He did the same to the unconscious Illya. When he was done, he stood next to Pinet.

"This is my comrade. He is going to help retrieve the gold the Nazis hid here during the war. Since I am virtually the only living person who knows where it is, I am very important to them and my wishes are his commands..." He giggled evilly. Pinet nodded to the German. He disappeared into the shadows, and returned with a box. Putting it on the ground, he opened it and reached it. Napoleon thought it sounded like he was turning a dial.

"All ready, Messieur Pinet."

"In 5 minutes, the explosives will go off. It will entomb you and your friend for a long time. You will be thirsty, hungry, probably wounded and bleeding. I will leave you the lantern so you can watch your suffering. Au revoir, Sergeant Solo. Enjoy your trip to hell."

When Napoleon was sure they were gone, he hopped over to Illya. He plopped down beside him and began nudging him with his foot.

"Peril? C'mon, Peril...your head is hard as a rock...he didn't hit you _that_ hard! Wake up...or we are going to be blasted to kingdom come!" He heard Illya moan.

"That's it, Peril..."

"Shut up already! I am getting there."

"Peril... there's an explosive that's going off in 4 minutes! We have to get up and out NOW!"

Illya finally sat up. He looked at Napoleon.

"Turn around."

"What?"

"Give your back to me...back to back...hurry!"

Napoleon didn't know what to think. He just did it. He felt Illya touch his hands, then he felt a blade begin cutting through the rope.

"How'd you get a knife?"

"Had it in my back pocket...There!"

Napoleon undid the rope on his legs, took the knife, and cut Illya lose. Just when they were both free, the ticking stopped.

KABOOM!


	10. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

They began pulling rocks and cement from one side of the room. By the way the flame of the lantern blew, a breeze was coming in from that side. Napoleon wiped dirt and sweat from his face.

"Well, at least we know Marie's son and nanny are safe..." He huffed as he pulled another large rock from their path.

"That woman is going to do you great bodily harm, Cowboy. Sleeping powder? Really?"

"Had to keep her out of this, Peril."

Illya looked over at Napoleon and saw his hands were beginning to bleed. Shaking his head, he said.

"Stop for now and wrap your hands with your handkerchief...you can get serious infection from this type of rock and cement."

"I'll live. Been through worse."

Just then Napoleon frowned. He thought he heard something.

"You hear that?" He asked. Illya nodded, and then they both walked over to the opposite wall. They both put their ears on the cement.

"Sounds like machinery?" Napoleon said.

"Yes. Could be bulldozer." He looked to where they were digging.

"Could have sworn that was way out." He mumbled almost to himself.

Napoleon kept listening. Suddenly his face turned red. He looked at Illya.

"Peril...did you make any calls the last few days?"

"I was charged with your safety. Yes, I made calls. Anyone in particular you want to know?"

Napoleon was becoming increasingly agitated.

"Waverly?"

"Yes. I let him know gold story was legitimate and he said he was going to get U.N.C.L.E. agents to assist."

"Is that them now?" He pointed in the direction of the noise, which was coming closer. The vibration was loosening rocks from above.

"Yes. Could be."

Napoleon had one more question before he decided if he was going to battle with Illya.

"Did you plant a transmitter on me? So you track me?"

"No."

Phew, Napoleon thought. Then the rescuers found them another way, not through Illya's deceitfulness.

"I have it in _my_ pocket." Illya said.

Bloody wounded hands and all, Napoleon dove at Illya. They've been here before. Round and round in their limited space, each took their turn punching and subduing the other. Suddenly, during their brawl, a crack was made in the wall, and a cool breeze stirred around them. They stopped their fighting as a French policeman entered their area. Behind him they could see other police, along with a bulldozer.

"Messieur Solo? Messieur Kuryakin? I am here to escort you to Mr. Waverly...are either of you in need of medical care?"

They both answered together, a resounding

"No!"

Eyeing Napoleon's bloody hands, and both men's swollen eyes, bloody lips, and bloody noses, the officer thought differently; but he just stood aside as Napoleon and Illya practically staggered out of their cement prison.

Alexander Waverly was waiting for them just behind the bulldozer. He was talking with a plainclothes gentleman when he saw Napoleon and Illya approach. He raised his brows at their condition.

"Solo, Kuryakin...let's get you to the hospital for repair. We can talk then..." Before either could protest, he grinned and stopped them by holding up his hand.

"No negotiations, please. Just get in the car..." He stepped aside and opened the back door to a large black limousine. He got in and sat across from them. Sliding open the glass separator, he asked the driver to take them to the nearest hospital.

"Now we can begin... After Kuryakin called, I set in motion U.N.C.L.E.'s French counterparts. Police and agents secured Miss Ansile's son and nanny's safety. Miss Ansile was removed from her residence and taken to be with them..." He stopped and looked directly at Napoleon.

"She was still slightly under the influence of the sleeping powder she said you slipped into her coffee. Quite amusing what she babbled she was going to do to you when next you meet..." He grinned. Napoleon cringed.

"Anyway, thanks to the transmission of your location, we started our rescue. Unfortunately we were one step behind this Henri Pinet. Quite a despicable character, I must say. But we found the gold. It was in another room near where you were, cemented up and we found an exit adjoining the room to an underground escape route that leads to a street at the Autoroute de l'Est. There were several large moving trucks there. We assume they were going to drive it all to Germany. We currently have plainclothes agents and police in the area beginning to load the trucks and get the gold to a safe location."

They arrived at the hospital.

"Ahh...here we are. You two get fixed up and I will be back to pick you up."

"Will I be able to see Marie?" Napoleon asked getting out of the car.

"We'll discuss that later..."

Illya and Napoleon watched as the car pulled away.

"You bled all over his car, Cowboy..." Illya commented, looking down at Napoleon's still-bleeding hands.

"Yes, I know." He turned to him, frowning.

"Who will hurt me more do you think? Marie or Waverly?"

They walked into the emergency room.

"I think Marie...She is a strong woman."

"Yeah, I think so, too..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The three men sat around the table with a street map of Paris. They were discussing how they were going to find Pinet.

"The weasel, Schmit, hasn't talked yet?" Illya asked.

"No. He is more afraid of his Nazi comrades than of Pinet. But I believe our next plan will work..."

Waverly told them what U.N.C.L.E. decided to do.


	11. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hans Schmit, shackled by the ankle to a metal table, sat smoking a cigarette and waiting for his attorney. The guard told him they'd been advised a lawyer was coming directly from Germany. He felt relief, for now he knew his comrades in Germany were still look out for him. As he smoked, he shook and sweated from the latest ordeal of being arrested; but he thanked God he was at least safe in here from the clutches of Herr Pinet.

He heard footsteps, rattling of keys in the door, and it opened. He stood in shock as his attorney walked in.

It was a woman!

She waited until the guard closed the door then she approached the table, putting down her valise. She put out her hand, and as Schmit shook it, she said in German:

"I am your attorney, Miss Althoff.". She sat, and opened her case. He sat also. They spoke only in German.

"I will record our conversation. Understood?"

"May I see identification Fraulein Althoff?"

She reached into her valise and took out a laminated card. It had a picture of her...Blonde hair in a bun, glasses. No smile. It also had an embossed swastika with her member number. He handed it back, smiling with relief.

"Have you heard from Messieur Pinet since your arrest?"

"No."

"Has anyone contacted you about your mission since your arrest?"

"No."

"Has Pinet fulfilled his obligation to us?"

"I cannot say. I was arrested before I could meet with him."

"Herr Schmit, we suspect Messieur Pinet planned your arrest so he could keep all the gold. We must stop him immediately. We have people ready and waiting to apprehend him. Where is he?"

Hans Schmit was livid. He spat when he said,

"That French swine!" He shakily lit another cigarette. Then he told his attorney where they could find Pinet. She smiled and patted his hand.

"I will report this back. You have done well." She said as she shut the recorder, and shut her valise and got up to leave. He took her hand to stop her.

"One moment...what about me? When will I be released?"

"Never, Herr Schmit..." She smiled. He jumped up, but the shackle prevented him from moving further.

She pulled her hand away. Then she took off her glasses. She pulled off her wig and shook her brown hair loose. He gasped.

"What is this?!" He bellowed.

"It's called justice, Herr Schmit...and it has finally bitten you on your ass!"

She knocked on the door and the guard let her out. All the while she heard Hans Schmit screaming revenge and death, she just kept smiling. When she got to the front door, she put on sunglasses.

Gaby Teller looked at the bright blue sky and thought she'd never seen such a beautiful day.

The guard waited for Gaby to leave. He picked up the phone on his desk at his station, dialed, and waited for an answer. He spoke in French.

"Hello, my friend. I heard Schmit say Pinet is at..." and he told the person the location and hung up. He took his sandwich out of his brown bag and after taking an enormous bite, he thought revenge never tasted so good.

The person on the other end was Jack LeMont. He and a few others were friends from childhood. Each lost precious members of their families because of Henri Pinet. He quickly began to call the others, giving them the information, which set in motion their plan.

When Gaby got to the hotel room she knocked on the door and Napoleon let her in. She gasped first at his condition, and then saw Illya looked no better. Shaking her head, she said,

"Really? You boys have to learn to play together nicely!"

Neither one remarked, so Gaby proceeded to play the tape for Waverly. When it was done, he got the phone and dialed.

"Waverly here. Pinet can be found at 1228 Rue de Rennes. " He hung up, eyeing his two top agents.

"I would like to send you both to get Pinet, but in your condition..."

Illya scowled...

"There is no 'condition' I will go. Cowboy here can remain with you..." He looked at Napoleon's bandaged hands.

"Peril, put a gun in my hand and I'll do just fine."

"All right then...good luck." Waverly nodded and they left for 1228 Rue de Rennes.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Henri Pinet heard the footsteps and whispered voices. He was in the middle of packing a suitcase and putting two of the three gold bullion into it that he managed to steal when they crashed through the front door.

"Who are you? What do you want?" There was a group of them. Nobody spoke.

"Get out!"

They just kept walking towards him, and he backed up until he hit the wall. Then they began to hit him.

Each one took a turn, stating their names. Pinet knew who they were then. Blow after blow, he begged for them to stop. Finally he lay bloodied with his cheeks fractured, eyes swollen, nose flattened, but still conscious. One of them knelt down beside him.

"You wanted this so badly?" he whispered.

"Choke on it."

He shoved a gold bullion into his mouth, breaking teeth, dislocating his jaw, and making Pinet gag until he died. Then they all left.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Illya was driving to their destination when he glanced over at Napoleon unwrapping his right hand, flexing the fingers, and then securing the gun. He felt more than secure he could fire it.

"You sure?" Illya questioned.

"Yes. You?"

"I am not the wounded one, Cowboy..."

"No? That knot on your head with 10 stitches doesn't qualify?"

"I have endured worse and carried on...that is the Russian way."

"Whatever you say, Peril...just stay out of the way when the shooting starts."

Illya actually chuckled.

"Trust me; I will stand behind you to avoid getting shot by you by accident!"

Napoleon couldn't believe Illya was actually trying to be funny.

"If I shoot you, it won't be by accident..."

"Shut up, Cowboy...we are here."

They entered the house, and faced the carnage. Putting their weapons away, they walked around the mess.

"Nothing left here to do..." Illya commented, looking down at Henri Pinets battered corpse, with the fragments of gold left in his mouth.

"No, guess not."

"Whoever created this mess was very angry."

"Yes, I would say so."

"Okay then...Let the others coming clean up this mess." As they turned to leave, Napoleon saw the bullion. Illya saw it too.

"Tempted, Cowboy?"

"You know? Another time and place, perhaps; but this brought enough heartache and death to so many, it's tainted. Let the government return it to its rightful owners."

They headed back to the hotel to meet up with Waverly and Gaby. After giving their report, Waverly said,

"Napoleon, Gaby and Kuryakin will take you to where Marie and her son are. When you're done, Gaby will take them to a safe house outside of Paris until we know Hans Schmit cannot cause any more trouble. Then return here. Understood?"

"Yes." All three said, and they took off.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Marie, her son and nanny were sequestered in a small house on a quiet street. When Gaby, Illya and Napoleon arrived, Denise, a young woman answered the door.

"Please, come sit. I will get Marie." She spoke softly and her English had a slight French accent.

She let them sit in the living room area, and left.

Marie stood in the door way. When Napoleon saw her he stood, and she walked to him, touched his face gently, and then embraced him. She turned to Illya who stood, and did the same thing. Gaby smiled and extended her hand to shake.

"I am Gaby Teller. I also work for U.N.C.L.E. When you are done and ready, I'm going to take you to your new home...Illya and I will wait in the kitchen..."

"Thank you...for everything..."

When they were gone, Napoleon and Marie sat on the couch.

"You are a sight, Napoleon!" She looked at his hands which were both partially bandaged.

"I couldn't let you be a part of Pinets scheme."

"Always the protector... I am so fortunate to have you in my life. I would like you to meet the other person you have been protecting...Justin? Sweetie, come here, I want you to meet mamas very best friend..."

A little boy came around the corner shyly. Then he ran to his mother's side. Napoleon thought he looked just like Marie.

"Justin, meet Napoleon."

Napoleon smiled, held out his hand for a shake, but Justin turned to his mother,

"C'est Sergeant Napoleon mama?" Marie chuckled.

"Oui...but speak English...go, shake his hand."

Instead, Justin pushed himself between Napoleon's legs, and gave him a resounding kiss on his cheek.

"You are mama's hero!"

"Hardly...but we are forever friends, and now you and I are also forever friends, oui?"

"Yes...in English!" Justin giggles when Napoleon poked his rib.

"Go help Denise get ready, ok?"

"Yes, mama..." and he ran off. Sitting next to Marie, Napoleon cupped her chin and kissed her on the lips quickly.

"I will miss you, Marie. Please do whatever the police or agents tell you for your safety. I assume now you know what I do."

"I have a good idea...dangerous work!"

"Don't flatter me... I have to go along with this life for another few years...have to pay my dues for the life I led after I joined the army..."

"I don't care what you did or what you might have to do. Long ago you helped an innocent little girl and her orphaned friends in their time of need. We are forever in your debt..."

She spoke softly, and her eyes welled with tears.

"I will write you my new location and number...but I will return to Paris. It is my home."

"Be safe, Marie. I'll look forward to hearing from you." They stood and hugged tightly, took one more look into each other's eyes, then Marie walked away to gather her son and nanny and leave with Gaby.


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Hans Schmit was tried and found guilty of crimes against humanity. He was sentenced to life in prison at La Santé Prison. Just a few days into his sentence, he was laying on his bunk, staring at the bleak walls.

"Herr Schmit?" Another prisoner stood outside his cell. He got up.

"We have special permission to visit with you..." Another prisoner opened his cell, and they both entered.

"Who are you? Why do I get special visits?"

The two men smiled.

"Herr Schmit... you are a very important man! After all, you have served the Reich faithfully, and now you deserve to be repaid!"

Schmit smiled.

"Well! It is about time!"

Both men smiled back at him. Quickly, one stood behind him and wrapped a cord around his throat. Pulling it tightly, they threw it over a ceiling pipe, and both pulled it taut.

As Hans Schmit, notorious Nazi and killer of many choked to death, both men raised their sleeves and showed him their left arms. He stared at their concentration camp identification tattoos. It was the last thing he saw.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Gaby returned from taking Marie to her new location. She met Waverly, Illya and Napoleon outside the hotel getting into the limousine.

"Marie asked that I give this to you." She handed him an envelope.

He opened it and read:

Napoleon,

My guardian angel and best friend. I have attached my address and phone number. Please call when you get back to the States. I want to hear your voice. I miss you already. When you are near I feel safe and protected.

What was done to Messieur Pinet was done for us and you. It closes a very sad chapter in our lives. You, a young man yourself at the time helped us all when it was most needed, with no thought of your own safety. Let's not stay apart again. I would like Justin to grow up knowing a man like you. I don't care about your past or what your future brings. Just know I love you.

~Marie

Napoleon knew then who had done the damage to Pinet. He put the letter in his jacket pocket and joined Illya, Gaby and Waverly in the limousine taking them the airport.

Their work here was done.

"Everything okay with you, Cowboy?" Illya noticed the lingering smile on Napoleon's face.

"Yes, actually everything is fine." He gazed out the window for a few minutes, and then turned to Illya.

"You know what Peril? I really didn't hate working with you this time."

Illya shrugged, looking out his window.

"Interesting...because after all this, I think you're not such a terrible spy."

Waverly raised his brows.

"Glad to hear all this comradery Gents...because I just got word about our next assignment..."

THE END


	13. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

At her new location, Marie invited her group of friends for a drink. They made toasts praying for peace to those they had lost during the war at the hands of Henri Pinet. Then she stood, held up her glass with the others, and said,

"My loving family of friends... I will return to Paris soon. I would not want Justin to grow up anywhere else. Until then, let us continue to pray that God forgives us for the revenge that was taken. We are only human, after all...Salute."

"Salute!" They drank, and then talked amongst themselves.

Jacques LeMont, the closest of Marie's friends, went to her, and as they hugged, she whispered in his ear:

"Nasty business shoving that gold down his throat."

He looked down at her with a questioning look and a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Who said it was me?" He looked around the room, "After all, we were _ALL_ there..."


End file.
